


new horizons

by chiarascura



Category: Black Sails, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/pseuds/chiarascura
Summary: isabela walks into a tavern in nassau, and meets a captivating mistress.





	new horizons

**Author's Note:**

> @carverly requested isabela from dragon age meeting the black sails lesbians, and while I'm not usually one for crossovers, I couldn't stop thinking about what if these three met.
> 
> pls don't think too hard about geography or lore or.... anything besides l e s b i a n s (and bisexuals ;* )

The tavern went silent at her entrance, all eyes drawn to her. Mugs clattered against tables, voices cut off mid-thought, even the world outside seemed to feel her presence and quieted. 

Isabela threw her shoulders back and smirked, preening under the attention from the strangers here in Nassau. She surveyed the space, making note of the astonished glances from the girls sitting on mens’ laps, the greedy lascivious looks from said men, a woman with a serving tray slipping away up the stair no doubt to report her entrance to whoever was in charge here. All she needed was a fight to break out, and she’d feel right at home. 

As she took a couple of steps, the room seemed to start back into motion, with more whispers than before, certainly asking each other who the devastatingly attractive new captain was. Isabela kept her chin high and her stride confident while she walked toward the bar, smirking at any audacious enough to meet her gaze. 

She ordered a drink, the bartender looking unimpressed, and watched the other patrons out of the corner of her eye as it was prepared. Fenris’ frustration seeped out of his body, his tightly wound control a palpable presence where he followed and waited beside her. 

“Must we make these kinds of entrances?” His tone bordered on insubordinate, so Isabela hip-checked him gently. 

“How else am I supposed to get everyone’s attention?” Movement at the top of the stairs drew her eye, and a woman stood there staring back at her. She was gorgeous, with dark curly hair tumbling around her shoulders and dark eyes impenetrable. Her dress seemed fashionable, made of high quality fabric no doubt, and the cut emphasized certain… assets. 

Isabela winked. The woman made no response, not even a blush. Isabela grinned.

The bartender set down a drink behind her, and Isabela turned back to the bar. She drank down the clear shot and smacked her lips in satisfaction. She ordered ale for them both, and turned to her friend. “Now Fen, the only way we are going to resupply and find a new lead for a hunt is by talking to people here. I know that’s not your favorite thing,” she said and swung her head around to catch his eye. He glared back at her. She smiled. “It’s the circle of life, sweet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He huffed and looked away, ostensibly watching for threats. 

Isabela’s eyes rose to the place the woman stood before, but she was gone. As a table opened up nearby, she slid a chair across the floor to sit with her back to the wall, rendering the whole floor visible. Fenris took up a spot beside her, leaning against the wall with a surly expression on his face. 

As she drank her ale, she watched the movements of the others in the tavern. She set her hat down on the table, stroked one finger along the feather and eyes burned into the side of her neck. Unwashed bodies, woodsmoke, old ale, and cloying perfume mingled together in that familiar scent of taverns across the globe. She relished the first night in a new town, where she she played the wild card in a game of unknowns, ready to fight for her presence and for her loot and for many more reasons than those. 

After some time, the woman returned to the second level overlooking the tavern, accompanied by another woman wearing a dark coat, trousers, and hat. Their heads bent together in conversation, bodies angled toward each other revealing some close relationship, and the woman in the dress touched the other woman’s sleeve. They both exuded power, even from this distance, likely having control over some business in Nassau. They remained locked in conversation, leaning on the rail overlooking the main floor, never straying from each other.

As the night wore on, Isabela finished her ale and left, relishing the whispers trailing in her wake.

The next day was spent getting her ship back into sailing condition, which included resupplying, hiring new hands, and listening for the island gossip. When the moon rose, she found herself back at the tavern, Fenris her brooding shadow.

She had finished her first ale when the well-dressed woman arrived at her table. Less time than Isabela had expected, but longer than she had wanted.

“Good evening, Captain,” she said, her thick French accent lacing her words. Her hands were folded in front of her bodice, posture straight and confident, chin lifted like a woman secure in her power and herself. 

Up close, she was stunning. Her brown skin was clear and radiant, her black eyes deep pools rimmed by a thick layer of kohl, her mouth a dainty pink rose. Her fine dress only enhanced her natural beauty, a subtle display of her wealth and position. Isabela wanted to bury her hands in the woman’s black curls, pull the string of pearls from where it weaved through her hair and trail it down her body…

Fenris coughed from where he stood behind her, and Isabela jerked her eyes back to the woman’s face. It was still and serene, but her black eyes sparkled with a knowledge that she had definitely noticed where Isabela’s attention had gone.

“Well, good evening to you too, Mistress.” Isabela dipped her head and gestured to the opposite chair. “Can I invite you to share a drink?”

The woman’s eyes slid down to the chair and then back up to Isabela’s face. “Welcome to Nassau. I understand you have just arrived yesterday into port.”

Isabela nodded again. “Indeed, and it’s been so hospitable ever since. I am Admiral Isabela of the Siren’s Pearl.” She stood and gestured to Fenris. “This is my first mate, Fenris.” She extended her hand.

The woman remained still for a moment, clearly measuring Isabela’s worth, and whatever sum she came out to, she must have passed. She placed her hand in Isabela’s. “I am Max, Mistress of this tavern.”

Isabela bent, brought Max’s hand to her lips, placing the barest of kisses on her soft skin, without breaking their gaze. Max’s face betrayed nothing, but her hand lingered in Isabela’s instead of pulling away immediately. Isabela smiled, heavy-lidded and promising.

Isabela placed her hands on her hips and gestured around to the rowdy tavern, though it was quieter than before with many eyes on this interaction. “My crew and I are here just long enough to resupply for the next journey, then we will be off. It seems that you… have influence here in Nassau, and I promise, we won’t cause any unwanted trouble.”

Max’s eyebrow twitched at unwanted, and a spark bloomed inside Isabela’s belly. “That is good to hear. There is no piracy in Nassau, not any longer.” 

Isabela bowed deeply, before retaking her seat. “Can I offer you a drink, Mistress Max? As a thank you for your hospitable welcome.”

Max’s dark gaze focused on Isabela for a moment before flicking over to Fenris. Fenris was still during his own evaluation, and must have passed. Max turned to a passing waitress and signaled for another drink before taking the seat opposite Isabela. 

While Max wasn’t completely at ease at her table, she was comfortable in her power over the tavern and made for lovely conversation. She spoke of the local businesses here in Nassau, of commerce and strength, without directly revealing her own role in the community. Isabela would wager that she held the reins of power in the port town, which did nothing to smother the rising heat in her body. Max was not overly witty or chatty, especially not with a stranger, but she did not lack intelligence or shrewdness. 

As Isabela threw back the last of her ale, Max stood from her seat. “Thank you for your conversation, Admiral Isabela, and I hope you enjoy your time here in Nassau.” 

Panic flooded through her body. Isabela reached out, stopping just shy of touching the bare skin of Max’s hand again. “Please, can I interest you in another drink? I can’t imagine I’ll find another conversation partner as riveting as you.” 

Max’s hand flexed, instinctively pulling away before stilling. The corner of Max’s lips turned up, and her eyelashes fell against her cheek. “Admiral, I have duties I must resume this evening, however, if you are still around later then we may meet again.” She met Isabela’s eyes, her gaze direct and incendiary, heavy lidded with kohl and intensity. Isabela smiled and nodded to her. Max left their table, and Isabela couldn’t help but wonder if the sway in her hips as she walked away was for her own benefit. 

Fenris made a noise from where he stood against the wall. “I assume we will be here for a while longer?”

Isabela tapped one finger against her bottom lip. “It seems that way, for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am desperate for content about these women, find me on tumblr [@chiiarascura](http://chiiarascura.tumblr.com)


End file.
